


Indubitably

by Konstantinsen



Category: Warcraft III, ゼロの使い魔 | Zero no Tsukaima | The Familiar of Zero
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Entomophobia, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konstantinsen/pseuds/Konstantinsen
Summary: Louise summons a king. A dead king. A dead king with a spiked carapace, extra appendages, and a penchant for spinning webs and raising beetles out of cadavers. [one-shot]
Kudos: 18





	Indubitably

**Author's Note:**

> (December 5, 2020) - My muses are running wild again.

_Louise summons a king. A dead king. A dead king with a spiked carapace, extra appendages, and a penchant for spinning webs and raising beetles out of cadavers._

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

No matter how many times her spells literally blew up right in her face, Louise could never get used to the smell of something that had just exploded. But at least she had gotten better at quickly waving away the smoke. Which meant that she would be the first to see the results of her catastrophic failure.

Except, on this particular day at the height of summer, during the annual Invocation Familière Sanctifièe held on the hallowed grounds of the prestigious Académie Royale Tristain Des Arcanes, instead of the dreaded crater of nothingness that plagued her nightmares, the youngest daughter of House Vallière was greeted by the looming silhouette of something massive. Through the mist loomed a hulking, bulbous shadow peering back at her with _several_ piercing red eyes.

The expected taunts from her classmates echoed back only to be cut off by their own vocal bewilderment and utter disbelief at what exactly was occupying the center of the now desecrated invocation circle Louise had previously drawn on the ground. Their reactions were best summed up by none other than her self-proclaimed nemesis Kirche.

“ _Vom Gr_ _ü_ _nder_... What is...what is that?”

Louise could only gawk back at the creature that responded to her ritualistic cry to the heavens.

“ _Par les Fondateur_ ,” gasped Professor Jean-Baptiste Colbert who was now positioning himself between little Miss Vallière and whatever it was that she had summoned.

Said summoned creature began to move. In moments, the smoke completely dissipated and the sun shone down on the abomination that would haunt those unfortunate enough to be cursed with the irrational fear of insects or anything bearing any resemblance to such.

Which meant nearly all of the other Académie students present.

Loud gasps, muted screams, and the noise of someone crumpling to the ground—definitely Montmorency fainting if Guiche's unmanly cry for her well-being was of any indication—echoed back to a now dumbfounded and very unnerved Louise. In fact, the girl herself was so paralyzed with a mix of shock and awe and a little bit of garment-soiling fear that it took Professor Colbert physically yanking her behind him to get her to snap back to her senses.

It was then that Louise Françoise Le Blanc De La Vallière took in the sight of the massive, hulking monstrosity of a beetle that was now regarding her with its giant razor-sharp mandibles, spiked carapace, its elephantine armored legs, its nigh-metallic elytra, and _oh dear Founder, it had a face and six eyes and a mouth and it was talking to her_!

“Stay behind me,” whispered Professor Colbert as he quickly cast a spell that broke the language barrier.

The creature reacted with amusement to the burst of magic tickling its lips (did it even have lips?). It then wriggled—were those bandages falling off its body?—and clamored over until it was close enough for Louise to get a bearing of the scale of...of...of _her_ summon.

By the Founder, it was huge. So huge that at this distance, with the creature's mandibles threatening to envelope both student and instructor, the pair could smell its putrid odor and see the venom dripping from its jaw and feel its horrid breath...which was surprisingly cold.

A set of glowing red eyes narrowed at them.

“Speak,” it said in a chilling, 'un-living' voice.

Professor Colbert cleared his throat and opened his mouth only to be interrupted.

“The little one,” the beetle-like thing echoed. “I have heard her summons.”

Louise, for her part, kept repeating her mother's mantra ( _rule of steel, rule of steel, rule of steel, rule of steel, rule of steel_ ) in her head until she felt strong enough to move her legs, to move around her professor, and meet this horrifying thing in its...rotting face. When she did finally get close enough to see how... _mummified_...it looked, she felt her tongue dry up.

“Time is fleeting,” the creature hissed.

Miss Vallière took a deep breath, steeled herself and recited the final phrases of the Invocation Familière Sanctifièe. Then she paused.

And glanced back at her professor.

Then looked to the creature.

Then looked back to the professor.

And then the creature.

And with an inward scream, she pressed her lips on the mouth of the _giant, mummified, beetle-monster_!

Louise wanted to pull away but she felt the overwhelming flow of magic sealing the contract between her and her familiar. In turn, the creature let out a noise akin to a hiss of pain as, in the corner of her vision, something seemed to glow from its underbelly. No doubt, the Invocation was branding the creature with the binding runes.

Other than the smell, the furious eyes, or fact that her tongue was tasting the bitter saliva of this creature, it was the only thing Louise focused her attention on. By the time she managed to free herself, she screamed.

In a most undignified manner.

And, like the lightheaded Montmorency who was now waking up in the arms of her fiancé Guiche, the youngest daughter of House Vallière promptly fainted into the mandibles of her familiar.

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

Louise was beginning to understand why insects were insufferable creatures.

They were horrid, disgusting things, first and foremost. They were tiny little monstrosities that scurried about under desks and beds and would climb walls and posts to reach their little caves carved into the stonework where they would see to their millions of disgusting eggs that housed more of their wicked spawns. They were the filthy banes of the animal kingdom that feasted on the dead and laid their offspring in offal. They were disease-carriers and plague-starters and brought nothing but pain, suffering, and absolute discomfort to the world.

Yes, Louise finally accepted that she was vehemently averse to bugs. Like almost everyone else.

And now, she had to accept that she summoned as her familiar the alleged 'king of the spiders.'

“I was the last king of Azjol-Nerub,” corrected Anub'arak.

The young pink-haired mage sucked in her breath to compose herself. “... You lost a war against...spiders?”

The self-proclaimed 'Traitor King' let out a growl so filled with anger that it made Louise take several steps back until she felt the cold of the masonry seep through her cloak. There was only so much room in the hall of the Académie's abandoned Void Tower to accommodate such a meeting, much less the new home of her familiar. And that was after most of the junk stored here had been moved elsewhere.

“Um, so...you were the king of a...kingdom,” Louise deflected nervously.

Anub'arak calmed down. “Azjol-Nerub. The realm is now rightfully ruled by the Lich King and the Scourge.”

 _Lich._ Which, according to the myths and legends, meant undead necromancers.

 _Scourge._ Which, through correlation and context clues, defined an undead horde.

“ _Par les Fondateur_ , I'm a necromancer,” she breathed.

“If you were, then you are either an apprentice or the worst I have come across.”

Louise glared back but found it hard to meet the beetle-lord in the eyes. “You've been slain, then raised by another king—”

“The Lich King.”

“—and then killed again only to be summoned...by me.”

“It seems so. I am curious to such circumstances but alas, I no longer hear the voice of my master.”

“B-b-but...” Her tongue dried up again.

Louise gulped. She had to come to terms with the fact that she summoned a dead creature. A dead _king_. A _revived_ dead king from a fallen kingdom that she never heard about. An undead dead beetle-monster-king with four legs, a spired carapace, sharp mandibles, and a penchant for weaving webs and spitting venom. And she had done it through the sacred Invocation Familière Sanctifièe. Any devout follower of the Brimiric faith would immediately cry 'heretic' and have her burned at the stake.

“Speak.”

Louise shook her head. “But...but... But _I_ am your master!”

“I was referring to the Lich King. I do not hear his commands anymore. I neither hear his summons nor feel the pull of the Scourge. It is...strange.”

She raised her brow at that. So her familiar's former master could communicate with him through his thoughts. Interesting. And also unnerving. “You are my familiar now. You no longer serve this, uh, this Lich...King.”

Anub'arak was silent for a moment.

A very uncomfortable moment.

So uncomfortable, Louise could almost see venom dripping from the Traitor King's maw as his mandibles began inching ever closer to her.

Then the undead regent of a forgotten nation eased back into his corner which was now blanketed in strands of grey silk. “... You are correct, Mistress Louise.”

Hearing her name being spoken with such reverence by such an un-living being sent shivers down her spine. But, as a noble of the distinguished House Vallière, she had to own up to what she had gotten: a fallen 'Nerubian' monarch. So, with as much mettle as she could muster, she set her foot down...on a thick layer of damp, sticky, hardening webs.

Louise pretended to ignore the moist sensation seeping through her socks.

“As your master, you will obey my commands. The contract is sealed. You have been marked as my servant, and therefore you will serve me and me alone.”

“Hmm, the Lich King would disagree.”

She shuddered at that name but nonetheless kept her chin up. “The Lich King is not here. Your Scourge or whatever is not here. _I_ am here! I, and no one else, have authority over you. Am I understood?”

Anub'arak made a noise that sounded like amusement before bowing low before her. “Indubitably, Mistress Louise.”

Behind her iron mask, Louise felt like regurgitating. Necromancy, heresy, and Divine authority over a giant insect-like predator who reeked of death and dark magic and who claimed have waged countless bloody battles and devoured innumerable foes.

What bittersweet joy.

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

“Anub'arak, stop!”

The entirety of the Vestri Court fell silent at the command.

Slowly, heads turned to Louise gasping for air as she pushed her way through the crowd of horrified students, some of whom had their wands drawn. Even the seniors and their familiars were poised to (hesitantly) attack the Nerubian for what he was about to do.

Said Nerubian withdrew his envenomed mandibles from Louise's classmate Guiche de Gramont.

Or what could be visible of him underneath several layers of Nerubian silk.

Not Guiche's familiar, a large mole named Verðandi, was spared the treatment.

Woven together into a ghastly cocoon, both sophomore and servant were close to being devoured by Anub'arak after they learned, to their horror, that the beetle-lord's spiked carapace was a great armor, effectively deflecting and absorbing attacks by Guiche's earthen constructs. Even if the other students had directly intervened with more potent offensive spells, it seemed that it would take more than their magic (and maybe even physical force) to get the horrid thing to relent.

Except for Louise.

Who only had to issue a single order.

And Anub'arak let go of his prey.

“Stop,” Louise repeated shakily even after the tightly-woven cocoon that was Guiche and Verðandi fell to the ground. “That is enough. Untangle him. He has been forgiven! He does not deserve anymore punishment!”

“Understood, mistress.” The Nerubian gazed deep into Guiche's weeping eyes. “Consider yourself fortunate that you will not feel the venom of Nerub.”

“Enough, Anub'arak!” barked Miss Valliére. “We are done here. Why did you even...?”

The Traitor King marched over to her. “He tested my patience, mistress. He needed to be punished for his insolence.”

“No! No, no, no! No more punishing unless I say so!”

“Understood, mistress.”

Louise failed to notice her classmates flinching at the fact that she was unmindfully willing to let Anub'arak punish those who offended her in some way...which a lot of them had been doing for the past year. The girl then glanced to Guiche and noticed a dampness over the webbing. Which probably meant...

“Did you poison him!?”

“I was about to until you stopped me,” Anub'arak replied, the smaller mandibles hanging off his mouth still dripping with acidic bile. “He has enough room to breathe. He will live.”

Louise shook her head to shake off the disorientation she was getting from this madness. “No...no more harming others... No more harming my classmates. Am I clear?”

“Indubitably.” As if to prove his sincerity, he flapped his elytra. For a moment, Miss Vallière and many others caught glimpses of the many writhing _things_ hiding in his abdomen. “If there is nothing else you require of me, mistress, then I will retire to the Void Tower.”

As the lumbering beetle-lord departed the field, Montmorency rushed in to untangle her fiancé with the help of Kirche and Tabitha. Eventually, some of the teachers emerged and began to cut through the layers of hardening silk as the plebeian staff rushed over to help Guiche to the infirmary. Louise wanted to help but one too many glares convinced her to simply let the experts work.

Since then, no one in the Académie dared to mock Miss Vallière again for her magical ineptitude. Not even the teachers who, despite their prerogative and superior magical capability, would not dare punish little her for her irresponsibility in controlling her familiar. Mainly because Académie Director Antoine-Laurent Osmond forbade any action against her or her familiar and not because the teachers themselves were admittedly fearful of the Nerubian who not only showcased a great resistance to magical attacks cast against him but also displayed superior martial capability and a willingness to defend his master from even petty ridicule.

And most definitely not because a large demographic of the institution's population had already developed an indisputable fear of bugs.

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

Siesta hated bugs.

She could tolerate rudeness, cruelty, and even downright physical punishment in the line of her duty as a maid here at the Académie. She could handle the mess left behind by someone heaving or someone soiling themselves or someone getting a little too passionate. She was not above crawling into tight spaces that were most untidy if it meant extra pay for cleaning it. She was even used to the slobber that the countless familiars bathed her with in their eagerness to gobble up the food she would deliver to them from time to time.

But if she saw an insect, Siesta risk shirking her duties in order to either avoid it or crush it until it was paste.

Unfortunately, Brimir decided that the young maid from the humble village of Talbes would have to face her fears far sooner than she thought she would.

Hence, no matter how much she was not looking forward to it, Siesta accompanied Miss Vallière to the Void Tower where her newest responsibilities lay.

She had heard the rumors.

She had seen the messes.

She even had to manhandle some of that 'Nerubian silk' that, for some astonishing reason, was so thick that sharpened tools—everything ranging from knives, axes, swords, to even halberds and pikes—could barely cut through them. That was not to say that the teachers tried as well; their superior magic was not as superior as they boasted of when applied to the layers of webs that took a whole day of clearing with every single piece of equipment they had.

Truly, the maid was not looking forward to her new tasks.

“I will not blame you for behavior unbecoming,” Miss Vallière said tiredly. “Just...behave yourself and...and don't aggravate him.”

“Understood, _ma'amselle_.”

“Good. At least you're more levelheaded than most around here.” With that, the diminutive sophomore took hold of the heavy iron torc fastened to the handle and pushed open the massive double doors, basking the Void Tower's main hall with light.

And in the darkness, Siesta could see a few pairs of red eyes glowering back at her.

Hesitantly, she followed after Miss Vallière. She stepped into the pitch black darkness and waited close by until the mage took out a tinderbox to light up the candles in the room.

Scrape.

Hiss.

Light.

Then Siesta saw him.

“Ah, a new visitor,” welcomed the biggest four-legged insect that she had ever seen in her whole life.

“Her name is Siesta and she will be taking over your feeding duties,” Miss Vallière introduced.

The widely feared 'beetle king' of the Académie let out a long, loud breath. He even enunciated her name with a disturbing fascination. “ _Siesta_. A nice name.”

His mistress planted her hands on her hips. “Don't get any ideas.”

Meanwhile, the maid was too paralyzed with fear to move, much less speak.

The giant bug emerged out of the shadows where the light from the candles revealed his gloriously grotesque form. If she was educated enough to know the words to describe the horrors she was seeing, she would have filled an entire page. But she was a simple woman who preferred simple words and simply put, he was everything Siesta hated, conflated to a greater degree.

“I consume the living and the dead,” he declared.

Siesta let out a squeak.

“Don't scare her!” barked Miss Vallière before turning to the very terrified woman. “You have nothing to fear from him. He is obedient and will only consume what you give him. If, however, he does attempt to, um, devour you...”

The maid couldn't help but frightfully squeak at that.

“...then call upon me. I grant you permission to call upon me at any time but only if he threatens your life. Am I clear?”

Gawk. Gape. Gasp.

“Maid. Am I clear?”

Siesta straightened and bowed shakily. “Y-y-y-yes, _ma'amselle_!”

The mage sighed. “Look. I know you're scared. I don't blame you. But I trust that you are more than capable of these tasks.”

Siesta doubted that but nodded anyway.

“In the interest of caution, you can just put the food in a bowl and leave it at the door. Tap the torc three times. Anub'arak should open the door and take the food. You can pick up the bowl later. If he doesn't return the bowl, don't bother going in here to retrieve it. Just get a new one and inform me.”

While the maid could at least accord the young mage some respect for considering her personal safety, Siesta had yet to fully trust her with this. If the rumors were to be believed, the pink-haired girl herself could barely control her familiar. Then again, one word and the gargantuan 'lord of the beetles' which the maid swore was _looking at her with unnerving interest_ would comply. On the bright side, Siesta had more mettle than most of her colleagues (including many of the nobles as well) to not faint in the presence of her greatest fear manifested to an even greater scale.

“... I believe that is all there is to it. Do you have any questions?”

Very many. “No, _ma'amselle_.”

“Good.” Miss Vallière sighed, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “Good. _Par les Fondateur._ At least you don't have to worry about this...”

Oh, she had much to worry about, no thanks to you, Siesta mentally blared. Brimir above, she was not being paid enough for this.

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

Louise screamed when she entered the Void Tower.

Anub'arak regarded her with an annoyed look as he righted himself on his 'throne' of hardened Nerubian silk. How an amalgamation of junk and stone slabs constituted a throne was beyond Louise because right now, she was trying to back away from the many large beetles that were now crawling all over the place.

Then again, 'small' seemed the more appropriate descriptor for the undead bugs that were the size of a pony compared to the mammoth that created them.

And there were around half a dozen of these abominations. Skittering about, mandibles dripping with saliva (she hoped it was just saliva), weaving together blankets of Nerubian silk and layering them to be as resistant as concrete. In essence, these scarab servants were making the cavernous interior of this formerly abandoned sector of the Académie more livable for the creature that claimed it.

And...were those bones?

By the Founder.

No.

It couldn't be.

Calming her racing heart, Louise inched over to the ribcage jutting out from the sea of white. Anub'arak assured her that it was not from a human; he apparently had gone hunting in the night. While it did save on feeding expenses, it led to Miss Vallière discovering the necromantic powers of her familiar. Namely the fact that he could raise his little minions from cadavers.

On the bright side, they were neither as intelligent nor sentient as the Traitor King.

But that was neither here nor there because right now, Louise was concerned about the large, human-shaped bones she was plucking off the floor.

“Where is Siesta!?” demanded Miss Valliére.

Before Anub'arak could respond, another scream broke out from the doorway. It was the maid and she had dropped the large metal bowl of raw animal limbs which were immediately claimed by the scarab beetles.

“There she is, mistress.”

Louise sighed, trudging through the webs to Siesta to calm her down. And herself as well because she did not like having Anub'arak's minions _crawling all over her for no good reason, stop it, Anub'arak!_

* * *

Later that evening, both Louise and Siesta bathed more vigorously than usual to the point of lingering longer than they needed to at the Académie baths. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, neither of them could never really shake off the feeling of several little insects crawling all over their skin. After all, having to comb through the mess of webs ended up with them covered in Nerubian silk so much so that Anub'arak, being the generous 'king' that he was, had his scarab servants 'help' them.

Needless to say, that incident established a sort of camaraderie between the aristocratic sophomore and the plebeian maid. This manifested in Louise inviting Siesta to the more luxurious baths complete with the open spaces, the warm air, and the fragrant oils that were cost than a month's salary for the average steward.

Besides, Miss Valliére was used to ridicule. So what if she was allowing a commoner like Siesta to bathe in the same pool as her, a pool reserved only for the nobility? She didn't care. She had a massive beetle-spider-monster-king as her familiar so that meant she still had standing in the aristocracy and besides, _Siesta was a better friend than any of you, Kirche, Montmorency, and all the others!_ Except Tabitha because she was indifferent but her classmates can go _fiddle themselves for all she cared!_

“I understand the feeling, _ma'amselle_ ,” sympathized the maid.

The young mage groaned as wrapped herself in a towel, doing her best to ignore the fact that the other woman was more physically blessed than she was. “I guess we have that in common.”

Siesta smiled, picking up their clothes and replacing the fragrance bottles on the shelves. “That's reassuring.”

Louise shook her head. Maybe the maid was feeling unwell in the head. Then again, who wouldn't be after being appointed to feed her familiar who was the personification of everything that was repulsive, grotesque, and potentially sacrilegious?

“I do hope you're being paid enough for this,” groaned the young mage, missing the glint in the maid's eye.

“Not nearly enough, I'm afraid.”

“How unfortunate.” Upon returning to her dormitory with Siesta, Louise opened her purse and began setting aside a few écu from her allowance. Brimir's guilt was compelling her to do so. Not because Siesta was the only one in this whole institution—other than Professor Colbert—who genuinely understood her. “This stays between you and me.”

“ _Ma'amselle_?”

“Speak of this to no one,” she ordered quietly, pushing the handful of coins into the maid's hands. “You're fortunate that I'm more merciful than most of the louts here.”

Siesta bowed gratefully, flowering her thanks in a tone that reminded Louise of how Kirche and Montmorency would sometimes taunt her for her magical ineptitude, before departing her room. When the door finally closed, the pink-haired mage dropped all manner of decorum and unceremoniously dropped into her bed with her legs bouncing wildly against the mattress.

Brimir knows, it had been a stressful day dealing with Anub'arak and his cadre of aptly named 'carrion beetles.'

* * *

**-~oOo~-**

* * *

Her Majesty Princess Henrietta De Tristain had many fears that sensibly came with her responsibility as the heiress-apparent to the throne of the Kingdom of Tristain. It was difficult enough dealing with her father's sudden passing due to illness. And here she would be mantling the responsibilities of her emotionally fragile mother sooner than expected. Hence, she had to steel herself against the many challenges that would inevitably come her way such as rebellious elements in her realm, an impending war with a neighboring country, and diplomatic headaches that demanded great concessions.

That was not to mention her secret love affair with a certain prince and an arranged marriage with a certain emperor.

So when she decided to visit the Académie Royale Tristain Des Arcanes, it was to accord herself some breathing room. She needed some time away from the palace and the school where her childhood friend Louise was studying at certainly fit the place to unwind. Besides, personally attending the Tristain Exposition Familière annually held at the Académie was less of a burden than sitting in at long—sometimes heated—meetings with her subjects.

She was not expecting much else.

Thus, the princess was in for a surprise when she arrived and was privately informed by Director Antoine-Laurent Osmond about Louise's 'unusual summon.' Despite her inquiries, he was hesitant to expound more than that. And being the benevolent co-regent that she was, Henrietta allowed him leniency and retired to her quarters.

Later that night, being the mischievous co-regent that she was, Henrietta donned on a hooded cloak, slipped past her escorts—her most loyal retainer Agnès would surely understand—and made her way across the Académie grounds to Louise's dormitory.

Along the way, she encountered a rather skittish maid who appeared to have come from the allegedly abandoned Void Tower.

The maid hastily muttered her apologies, thankfully either too rattled or too exhausted to recognized her, before hurrying down the corridor.

How strange.

Even more strange though was when Henrietta finally did meet Louise, and after their emotional reunion, the pink-haired girl was even more hesitant than Director Osmond to explain the rumors that she summoned an alleged king. No matter how much the princess tried, she could not coax out a straight answer from her dearest childhood friend.

Alas, Her Majesty's most loyal retainer Captain Agnès Chevalier de Milan was already prowling the grounds searching for her liege, prompting Henrietta to make a hasty, graceful exit. At least the princess was able to prevent the understandably irate musketeer captain from beating down the door to the Void Tower after apparently hearing strange noises coming from there.

Huh.

Did Louise mention something about the Void Tower?

And Henrietta had seen neither hair nor hide of any animal in Louise's room when she visited.

So maybe the sophomore was hiding it there?

Did Louise not trust her friend to—

No.

Princess Henrietta shook her head. It has been a long time since she last saw Louise in person and it would only spoil her stay if she were to prod an issue that would surely bring great discomfort to the pink-haired mage. Besides, the Exposition was tomorrow. She was going to find out then.

* * *

Her Majesty Princess Henrietta De Tristain had many fears.

Today, she was going to add one more to her growing list.

“Your Majesty,” echoed Louise's familiar. “I am Anub'arak of Azjol-Nerub. I serve Mistress Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliére.”

The massive, hulking, disquieting 'beetle-lord' or 'king of the beetles' or 'Nerubian' (what in Brimir's name was a _Nerubian_?) bowed in her direction from where it stood on the stage, right next to the diminutive person who summoned him. If one were to ask who was the proverbial insect in this scenario, fingers would surely point to Louise given how the girl herself was dwarfed in size by her own summon.

“My might cannot be matched,” declared the creature. “For I have served the Frozen Throne for many years as its protector until the day I heard Mistress Louise's summons...”

Had Her Majesty been one of the judges, she would have already awarded several points to the thing for just speaking so intelligently...if not several points for the thing even existing and moving around like he did.

“... I consume the living and the dead—”

“And that is my familiar!” Louise hollered with a wide, fragile smile. With a quick gesture of her hands, she began walking off the stage, unsubtly gesturing at her familiar to leave as well.

Anub'arak, however, did not follow.

Instead, he angled his...head?...thorax?...to the west. As if he was trying to discern something, his disturbingly human-like face, hidden by his decorated tubercle, scrunched in thought towards the empty blue sky.

Before people could ask what he was looking at, they all felt it.

Rumbling.

“By Nerub, it is here,” Anub'arak announced just as a massive golem marched over the tree line and began pounding at the central tower of the Académie.

Henrietta looked at the third largest thing she had seen today. And she promptly added that as her newest fear directly after the giant talking spider-beetle that pridefully boasted that it could consume both the living and the dead.

* * *

Like many who were in attendance that day, Louise, Siesta, and Princess Henrietta would willingly agree that a swarm of demonic, flesh-eating, life-stealing locusts was the most terrifying thing in the world. And probably the notorious thief Fouquet De La Saleté En Ruine would have thought the same.

Because Anub'arak, in fulfilling his duty as familiar to and loyal protector of Louise, challenged the triangle-class thief who was so brazenly attempting to rob the Académie with a massive earthen golem. So brazen in that the Fouquet was doing it at the height of the Exposition festivities and in the presence of so many accomplished nobles and trained mages as well as Her Majesty herself and her elite musketeer guard.

They all tried to stop him.

And failed.

Raging fire, pressurized water, compressed air, and even hardened stone may have slowed Fouquet's grand giant of a golem but they did little to stop it from carving out its path of destruction. Any damage done to it, the thief quickly repaired, waving around his wand as he stood on the shoulder of his creation.

And then Louise, in her sense of duty and altruism (and undoubtedly emboldened by the attempt of her more magically adept classmates Kirche and Tabitha to stop the thief), joined in the fray.

The explosion she created was magnificent and greatly destructive. Unfortunately, her aim was off and she ended up ripping through the layers of protective enchantments and steadfast wards that protected the Académie's vault. And Fouquet, after seizing the treasures within, decided to reward Miss Valliére's unintentional assistance by having his golem try to crush her like a bug.

It was at that moment that Anub'arak intervened.

The Nerubian smashed his mandibles into the ground with such force that the earth responded in kind. Observers would clearly cry out magic. For logically, there was nothing else that could cause a wave of granite stalagmites to burst forth in a line, increasing in size as it rippled ahead, until Fouquet's golem was impaled through the foot by a massive spire...and then through the literal and proverbial rear by the largest chunk of jagged bedrock to spear out of the ground.

Thus, Louise was saved from being flattened.

She was also screaming in revulsion when she found herself being carried from the battlefield by Anub'arak's carrion beetles.

By the time she had gotten off of them and back onto her feet, she was grabbed by the arm by Siesta who insisted on taking her to shelter on orders of Director Osmond. It was while they were bickering under the sun did they notice that there was no sunlight illuminating the ground.

The girls looked up to see the sun hidden behind a dark cloud...of locusts.

Locusts that were coming from Anub'arak's now open abdomen.

And these locusts swarmed the golem, ripping apart chunks of earth as they worked their way up the construct towards the mage-thief standing on its shoulder who was by then trying to regain control. From the looks of it, the swarm was focusing less on the construct and more on the caster controlling it.

It did not look pretty.

“ _Ma'amselle_?” Siesta asked nervously as she watched the carnage unfold.

“Yes, Siesta?” Louise replied shakily.

“Is...is your familiar supposed to do that?”

“I...don't know, to be honest.”

They looked back to Anub'arak who continued to rub his elytra together, his carapace spread wide open, while continuously gesticulating with his mandibles in a manner akin to a mage channeling his arcane energy to prolong a spell being cast. Which meant that the locusts were Anub'arak's own little familiars much like his carrion beetles. After all, it was a millennia-old undead spider-scarab-beetle-mage-king who was tearing down a distinguished triangle-class mage.

Hence, it did not take long for the infamous thief to be defeated.

Clouded by a swarm of locusts.

Undead locusts with demonic visages.

It was only when the flying abominations returned to their hive within Anub'arak's abdomen that people started to come out of hiding to prod at the remains of Fouquet's construct. The Nerubian paid them no mind as he began sorting through the debris before eventually pulling out a person.

A woman, specifically. A woman with long, messy green hair who was reduced to her tattered white blouse and red dress because her hooded cloak had been shredded and the hardened leather padding that served as her underlying armor had been viciously taken apart hundreds of tiny, jagged, grasping, grabbing locust hands. Surprisingly, she was still breathing albeit unresponsive.

Professor Colbert called for a healer while Director Osmond shook his head.

Louise and Siesta turned to see Princess Henrietta and her royal musketeers approaching.

“Louise,” Her Majesty croaked. “I...your familiar...it...he...?”

“We have triumphed, Mistress Louise,” announced Anub'arak, carrying the unconscious woman with his mandibles. “She has great vitality to have survived my swarm. Evidence that she is a trained and experienced opponent with commendable magical skill. Any lesser being would have been easily devoured.”

“No!” Louise barked. “No. No, Anub'arak, do not devour her! W-we don't know even who she is—”

“Is she not the thief, mistress?”

“But Fouquet is a man!”

“I doubt it,” crowed a resigned Director Osmond. “I have had my suspicions for a long while and it pains me to admit that I am privy now. For what I can tell you is that that woman there is my secretary Marie Justine Longueville. And she has not been seen since the previous evening.”

“Director Osmond,” Her Majesty Henrietta said. “Are you implying...?”

Osmond bowed low. “I apologize for this, Your Majesty. I shoulder all the blame. I have been senile and did not foresee this outcome. Truly, I deserve whatever punishment you deem fit.”

The princess declined. “No. No, not at this time. It is imperative that we organize a relief for those who have been injured in this attack.”

“Your Majesty,” interjected Captain Agnès, pointing to the woman resting over Anub'arak's mandibles. “What about her?”

“Have her treated. And interrogated under strict guard.”

The royal musketeers uneasily regarded the Nerubian who, after glancing to Louise for approval, surrendered the woman to them.

* * *

The following morning, under threat of being chained up in the Void Tower with the now widely-feared 'Nerubian King' Anub'arak, Fouquet De La Saleté En Ruine admitted to her crime, going so far as to reveal her association with the anti-monarchist Reconquista Coalition of Albion led by Lord Oliver Cromwell. She admitted to being a disgraced noble of the now defrocked Albian House Sachsen-Gotha and claimed that she was only conducting heists like this in Tristain more out of coercion than loyalty. That and she now vehemently abhorred insects.

Everyone sympathized with her on the last bit.

Later that day, Her Majesty entered the Void Tower with Louise and Captain Agnès to personally give her thanks to 'His Highness of Azjol-Nerub'...even though no one knew exactly what or where this 'Azjol-Nerub' was or where this continent of 'Northrend' was. Then again, best not to doubt a self-proclaimed king who displayed such staggering magical power and martial skill in the face of an admittedly powerful adversary. And the claim of royalty explained away the odd, somewhat luxurious decorations, adorning him from his horn to his tubercle to even his mandibles and his legs.

“Despite all that you have done, I must practice caution and advise that you remain in obscurity here at the Académie until such time that the public will be more accepting of you,” the princess said.

“I understand,” Anub'arak replied. “You are not the first to be in revulsion to my kind. We of the Scourge are natural enemies of Divinity and the light. From what I have gathered, your Church will undoubtedly treat me with hostility.”

“That is true. And I am risking much for vouching for you.”

“'Tis the challenges of leading a nation.”

“Wisely said from a distinguished king to an heiress-apparent.”

“We are on equal footing, Your Majesty,” Anub'arak replied, amused at how much the young regent was doing her best to remain stone-faced in the presence of his armored carrion beetles and hardened webs of Nerubian silk. “However, there have been changes that are beyond my capabilities to ignore. I no longer rule Azjol-Nerub and I no longer hear the Lich King. While I stand proud to have served the Scourge, I feel no regret for, in a way, being liberated from them.”

“You do not have ambitions to...renege on your contract?”

“No.” The Nerubian King raised his mandible to show the odd Brimiric runes engraved onto it. “With these marks, I have been fated to serve Mistress Louise until my final breath. I obey her commands and see to her safety.”

Princess Henrietta nodded. “Your loyalty is commendable.”

“As is your benevolence and eagerness to fulfill your role as best you could. I sense you may need us sometime in the future. Is that not so, Your Majesty?”

“You are correct, Your Highness. Until then, I bid you adieu.”

With that, Her Majesty Princess Henrietta De Tristain exited the beetle-lord's den with as much grace and elan as she could muster. Of course, all that came apart at the seams when she was halfway down the empty corridor with the only witnesses being Louise and Captain Agnès. Some dignity was lost and there was considerable flailing and squealing and rapid, uneasy breathing but at least it was in the presence of those who knew her best and could keep a secret.

“I mean no disrespect to His Highness but...” Henrietta bit her lip, having calmed down from her fit, before continuing. “... Louise, Anub'arak smells like a corpse.”

Louise took the remark in stride. Anub'arak _was_ a corpse. A walking, breathing, un-living corpse that ate other corpses. “I'm sure he is aware of it.”

Agnès shuddered. “It's like he had been mummified twice over. He's transformed that tower into his own personal sarcophagus.”

Miss Valliére sighed. “Best to let him live like the king that he was, I suppose.”

“Your Majesty, how are you supposed to explain all this to the Church? Cardinal Mazarin will surely be asking. And there have been many witnesses because of the Exposition. No doubt, word would reach the Pope soon and...”

“Let me worry about that, Agnès.”

“I worry for you.”

“Well, let us not worry for the time being.” The princess let out a weak smirk. “We are, after all, not at the palace right now.”

Unsurprisingly, Her Majesty requested to bathe before leaving. Captain Agnès joined her, the battle-hardened musketeer admitting begrudgingly that she was as disturbed as her liege. Both expressed an uncomfortable feeling of tiny insects crawling over their skin, no doubt imagining Anub'arak's scarabs doing what scarabs naturally do.

Louise could only offer them her sympathies. At least, to her relief, the little explosive mage was not so scared of bugs anymore.

* * *

**ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: December 4, 2020**

**LAST EDITED: December 21, 2020**

**INITIALLY UPLOADED: December 5, 2020**

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE (December 21, 2020): When I first played Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne in 2004, the first Hero character I messed around with was Anub'arak A.K.A. the Crypt Lord. As a fourth grader, at the time, I was fascinated how a beetle could be personified so well in a game.
> 
> To be clear, the Anub'arak I'm depicting here is the one from Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne, not from World Of Warcraft. Funnily enough, when I was reading through the Warcraft wikis about Anub'arak, I was surprised at how Blizzard expanded the character. Literally, he was marketed in later games featuring Warcraft characters as a tank and mage-killer.
> 
> How fitting.


End file.
